You Ought to Know
by GarryxMrChairFan
Summary: The cheating Spanish bastard could never have predicted that the feisty Italian he once called his would leave him in such a manner. That same feisty Italian would never have thought he'd end up in the warm arms of a particular Briton. EngMano with Ex!SpaMano; Human!Gakuen!AU; slight OOC. Rewrite of "You Oughta Know" by CrazedFujoshi. Posted with author's permission.


**_You Ought To Know_  
**

~GarryxMrChairFan :3

**Customary Disclaimer: **Any and all recognizable _Hetalia: Axis Powers _characters (c) Himaruya Hidekaz.

_You Oughta Know _(c) Alanis Morissette, props to The Killing Moon for the cover.

Inspired by _You Oughta Know_ by **CrazedFujoshi.**

* * *

Lovino's fists came together repeatedly, his breathing labored and forced as he attempted to keep the cap on his temper. Normally, he wouldn't bother – it's not like he really cared who he went off on with his foul language and scathing attitude – but the blatant betrayal taking place _right in front of him _had him rooted to the spot.

_That _fucker. _Who does he fucking think he is to fucking be all fucking up over her fucking cunt-ass self while I'm fucking standing right fucking_ here?!

His thoughts were livid, fuming with his rage as he watched the cheating Spanish bastard across the room shamelessly sliding his tan hands along the thighs of some random skank, hands that once ran along _his _body like that, caressing his hips with feather-light pressure as he was held down and teased; lip-locked like his fucking life depended on her giving him CPR or some shit with plump lips that once kissed _his _lips with breathtaking force before trailing down his jaw and neck and clavicle and chest, practically eating him alive in his passion.

The thing that hurt the young Italian most was the fact that it didn't surprise him at all. Being the overly harsh and sarcastic person he was, Lovino wasn't the easiest person to like or get along with. He was constantly insulting anyone and everyone, using offensive slurs to push people away and make them hurt as much as he did, make them feel as insecure as he was when compared to his kind-hearted, bubbly, loving and accepting younger twin brother Feliciano.

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, a native of Spain who arguably embodied the very essence of _sexy_, had been one of very few exceptions. Characteristically bright and cheerful and always with a smile, Lovino had met Antonio as a young boy and was practically forced to become his friend, as the boy wouldn't leave him alone. It had only taken a few years for the young Italian to realize he'd developed feelings for the energetic chocolate-curled, emerald-eyed Spaniard, and only a couple years more for him to finally give in to said feelings. They'd been practically inseparable throughout their time in middle school and their years in high school, Lovi being a junior currently and Toni a senior.

Well. That all seemed to have fucking changed overnight. And Lovi couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming.

Tearing his green-laced honey-colored eyes away from the distracting pair across the lunchroom, Lovino forced back stinging tears and abruptly shot up from his seat at his table, startling his brother and his brother's potato-loving bastard of a boyfriend, receiving questioning looks from said potato-loving bastard's albino older brother and quiet Japanese friend as he stormed away muttering any and all profanities and slurs he could think of and mentally hurling them at the tomato-loving bastard he'd once thought he loved.

"Ve, _fratello, _are you alright?" Feliciano's high voice was laced with worry and concern; though his brother often stormed around angrily, he didn't normally have tears in his eyes.

Lovino continued down the hallway, but answered over his shoulder anyway. "No, Feli; I'm not fucking alright." He could hear the table shift as his brother and friends stood up, the light thundering sound of shoes falling hard on the ground as they ran after him. The Italian teen felt the hot tears begin rolling down his lightly tanned cheeks as his younger twin's arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders as they disappeared around a bend in the corridor, taking them out of sight of the rest of the students where Lovi promptly let out a wrenching sob.

"_Quel bastardo del cazzo!" _he shouted, slamming a fist into the nearest wall and causing his brother to jump. "Who the fuck does he think he is?!"

Feliciano whimpered beside him, tightening his hug on his brother. "Ve, _fratello! Cosa c'è di sbagliato?" _he inquired, voice panicked. "Who does who think he is?"

"That fucking tomato bastard!" he seethed, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes, subconsciously reaching up to grip Feliciano's arm around him. "He has the fucking balls to fucking make out with some cock-sucking whore _right in front of me!" _

"_Tonio_?" Gilbert exclaimed, tone incredulous and disbelieving. "Man, that's just unawesome to accuse him of something like that, Lovi!" He ran his hand through his shaggy white locks, red eyes glancing back towards the lunchroom. "You were the only thing he could talk about for _months _after you guys met! He'd sworn up and down that you were the one for him and that he was gonna 'make you his' –" everyone could hear the air quotes on the last words, and Lovi flinched "– and he was _ecstatic _when you finally pulled your head out of your ass to see it, too." He shook his head.

The Italian suddenly spun out of his twin's embrace, getting right up in the self-proclaimed Prussian's pale face, a burning rage coursing through his veins and reflecting in his irises. "Go take a fucking look in the damn corner of the fucking lunchroom, bastard!" he yelled heatedly, pointing off down the hallway. "Then tell me I'm still his 'everything'!"

Everyone around him was frozen as the albino raised an eyebrow and sighed before heading back down the hall to the cafeteria, Kiku curiously following him while Ludwig remained with the Italian twins, rubbing his boyfriend's arm. When Gilbert and Kiku returned, the albino's face seemed blanched of the little color it might've had and his eyes were wide, the crimson orbs darting back and forth and refusing to believe what they'd seen. Kiku's was set in a deep frown.

"Damn, Lovi," he breathed, pulling the small Italian into his arms, "I'm so sorry. That's just fucking unawesome."

Lovino was too mentally drained to bother pushing away, simply letting himself fall limp and cling to the Prussian's hooded sweatshirt. The albino rubbed soothing circles into his back, passing a look to his brother that communicated that Lovino had not been lying. The German's mouth was set in a thin line, his blue irises hardening to ice crystals as he comforted his younger Italian twin.

When the bell finally rang signaling the end of lunch and the five minutes to get to classes, Lovino had calmed enough to stop outright crying and simply sniffle every now and again as his friends walked him to his class, Gilbert giving an encouraging pat on the back before he walked off with his brother and Feli to their class. Kiku rested a consoling hand on his shoulder, and Lovino managed a bitter grimace as they walked in an took their seats.

When the Spaniard walked in, bright smile in place like always and took his seat adjacently in front of Lovino to his right, the Italian managed to ignore him, avoiding eye contact and evading any conversation the teen tried to initiate. After a few failed attempts, the Spaniard gave up and left him alone, Lovi letting out a grateful breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. As the teacher officially began the lesson, Lovi felt his phone buzz. Pulling it discreetly out of his pocket, he unlocked it to see a message from the albino:

_You okay?_

Lovino sighed again, replying quickly:

_I s'pose. Bastard thought he could just sit down and talk to me when he walked in._

Gilbert was just as quick:

_Totally unawesome. So how you planning on breaking up with him? _

Lovi sat for a moment, brow furrowed as he considered the question. He hadn't quite gotten that far in wrapping his head around the thought of the teen he'd been with for so long cheating on him. His phone vibrated again:

_You WERE planning on breaking up with him, ja? _

The Italian frowned:

_Of course I'm going to, bastard! You think I'm desperate enough to stay with him?!_

_Pfft, no. Just makin' sure. So? Any ideas? _

Lovino hesitated once again, unsure as to what he was planning to do. He also wondered why the albino was wanting to make such a big deal out of it:

_Is there something wrong with a normal breakup? _

_Those are so unawesome! You need to do something he'll never forget! Make him miss you and realize that the best thing he had isn't his anymore! _

_Then what do you suggest, bastard? _

His phone was silent for several minutes as he waited for an answer. Lovino took to gazing out the window, wonder just what exactly the awesome-obsessed Prussian albino had in mind. When his phone vibrated again, he looked to see that it was Kiku instead of Gilbert:

_Lovi-san, who are you talking to? _

He glanced across the room at the dark-haired Japanese boy, whose face was pointedly still on the teacher at the front of the room. He replied:

_The 'awesome' bastard. He wants to know how I plan on breaking up with Toni._

_Ah, I see. Has he given you any ideas yet? _

_Nah. Haven't heard back yet. _

As soon as he sent that, Gilbert's reply buzzed:

_Dude, you should totally sing. _

Lovino stared dumbfounded at the reply, furrowing his brow and scoffing as he sent a remark back:

_What kind of special stupid are you? _

_The AWESOME kind! But seriously. What's more perfect than a breakup-song? Besides, the talent show is next week! What better place to screw him over than in front of EVERYBODY?! _

He did have a point. Lovino smirked, quickly agreeing to the idea and sending out a mass text to his other friends, all of which also happened to be members of the band they'd all started together when they discovered they all could play instruments and sing.

Gilbert was the lead guitarist and milked it for everything it was worth with his exuberance; Ludwig was the bassist, his stoic nature allowing him to fit the role of cool and fairly indifferent pretty easily; Kiku, though quiet most of the times, was an incredible drummer, with a knack for channeling his emotion into his playing and keeping everyone together; Feliciano was their keyboardist, livening things up with overlapping rhythms that danced with the beat; and Lovino was their lead singer, his smooth tones able to make the female gender melt at their feet and the male gender envious of his charm.

_Alright, guys. We're changing the song for the talent show. I'm gonna make sure that fucking bastard knows what he's lost. And I've got the perfect song for it. _

. . .

The night of the school-wide Talent Show arrived and found Lovino gazing out from behind the curtains backstage, watching students, parents, teachers and staff trickling in as it neared time for the night to begin. The theatre filled up steadily, the red-backed seats quickly being claimed by families and friends all gossiping lightly, laughing with each other about this and that. Lovino scowled at their ease, their perfect night out with their significant others and shit. Fifteen minutes before it was time to begin, he caught the sickeningly familiar chocolate curls that belonged to the bastard that broke his heart, emerald eyes trained on the lovely lady by his side, all long legs and big breasts. Lovino shook his head in disgust that he'd been ditched for a fucking _vagina _and turned on his heel, heading over to his group.

Their band was scheduled to perform last, which worked in Lovino's favor as he wanted to be what the cheating Spaniard remembered last before he left that night. Lovi huffed, crossing his arms, and watched as the German brothers tuned their guitars, both lightly strumming the strings as they adjusted the tuning pegs. Kiku was lightly tapping his drums, absently going over the part in his head as he listened to the music on his iPod, and Feli was humming his part under his breath, a contented smile on his face. Lovino took out his own iPod and copied Kiku, listening to the version of the song they'd be playing at the end of the night.

As the lights in the theatre dimmed, so did the din of conversation and finally, _finally, _the show started. The directors had decided to open with the comedic acts, letting the aspiring comedians of the school break the ice and get people into relaxed and accepting states of mind. Lovi could only hear bits and pieces through his music, not exactly listening to the acts, but not ignoring them completely, either.

After the laughter began dying down, the dance acts were brought on. There were only a few, so the routines were allowed to be longer than they might otherwise have been. Again, the young Italian only caught glimpses of the graceful movements through the thick curtains, but enough to be appreciative of the hard work and dedication each of the performers obviously put into rehearsing.

The last dancer pulled herself off of the ground, bowing and heading off as the novelty acts took their turns. Lovino caught sight of a juggling act, an illusionist that had even him applauding silently at his trick, and a couple balancing acts. They were all definitely eclectic this year.

Finally, as the last of the balancers made their ways off the stage, the music talents took the field. The lone singers started out, many of them managing to move the audience to clapping with the beat or sniffling to hide their tears. Following the lone singers were the singers performing with their instruments, much of the same reactions being accomplished. The a cappella groups went after them, followed by groups that sang to tracks.

When the last of the groups with tracks shuffled off, the bands began taking the stage. There were only two this year and Lovino was beginning to feel the butterflies in his stomach as the realization of what he was going to be doing sank in. It was a good anticipation, though, and he could hardly stand still as he waited for the one group before them to perform and finish.

At last, it was their turn. Kiku and Feli both wheeled out their instruments as the German brothers set up their amps, slinging their guitars over their shoulders. Lovi walked to the mic, doing a brief, unnoticeable sound check as his group finished setting up. When they were ready, the announcer for the show introduced them and they were given the signal to begin.

Taking a deep couple of breaths, Lovino looked out into the audience and immediately found the dark head of hair and emerald eyes that he'd come to know so well trained right on him, the blinding smile spread on his face as he gazed on. Lovino simply stared back, hiding the hurt behind his harsh façade at what he'd seen the past week in school and the entwined hands resting where the bastard thought no one would see.

Letting a sarcastic smirk cross his face, Lovino gripped the mic in the manner that signaled he was going to begin, took one last deep breath, and let his voice fill the auditorium:

_"I want you to know that I'm happy for you ; _

_I wish nothing but the best for you both." _

As he sang, Kiku kept up the drum rhythm underneath his vocals, tapping out the light pattern that began the song. As he landed on the last word, the bass came in with a long note before the rest joined in and the song started into full swing. Lovi nodded his head along with the instrumental intro, looking out into the crowd directly at Antonio.

"This is for the fucker sitting in the third row that thought he could get away with breaking my heart!" He sneered at the shocked expression on the bastards face, counting in his head until he came in:

_"An older version of me; is she perverted like me? _

_Would she go down on you in a theatre?_

_Does she speak eloquently? And would she have your baby?_

_I'm sure she'd make a really excellent mother." _

He stared hard at Antonio as he began the first verse, reveling in the mortified shock in the green eyes, at his unresponsiveness to the girl next to him as she tugged on his arm before shooting Lovi a scathing look at the "excellent mother" comment. He grinned sarcastically.

_"'Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able _

_To make it enough for you to be open wide_

_No_

_And every time you speak her name _

_Does she know how you told me you'd hold me _

_Until you die? Til you die? _

_Well, you're still alive!" _

Lovino paced back and forth across the stage as he sang the bridge, dragging the mic along with him and moving his body slightly with the beat until the chorus:

_"And I'm here to remind you _

_Of the mess you left when you went away_

_It's not fair to deny me _

_Of the cross I bear that you gave to me_

_You_

_You _

_You oughta know" _

Antonio was _beyond _mortified at this point. He was shrinking back in his seat, ignoring all attempts his "mistress" made at engaging him: tugging on his arm, pulling his hair, even slapping him once. He couldn't bring himself to care about her. He wasn't even sure what he'd been thinking when he let her drag him off, throwing herself at him and seducing him with her womanly curves and allure. He was supposed to be _gay, _for fuck's sake! And now his Lovi was hurting and angry and fucking _breaking up with him _at the goddamn _Talent Show. _

He would never live this down.

Across the auditorium, another set of emerald green eyes, these ones framed by shaggy wheat-blond hair and sizable brows, were watching with rapt attention the gorgeous young Italian boy moving on stage, singing his frustration out at the imbecilic Spaniard that had thought it wise to be ungrateful for the bloody _angel _he'd been blessed with. Scoffing, the blond crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall, continuing to observe the performance.

Lovino was breathing a bit more heavily by now, but he was pumped up on adrenaline and the heat of the moment, letting his leering sneer dominate his face as he watched his ex-boyfriend stare at him with wide puppy eyes, all of his regret and anguish simply fueling the Italian's anger and solidifying his decision. He took a deep breath to start the next verse:

_"You seem very well. _

_Things look peaceful._

_I'm not quite as well_

_I thought you should know"_

Lovino tossed his head, giving a small, indifferent shrug to enforce the lyrics before continuing:

_"Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity?_

_I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner._

_It was a slap on the face how quickly I was replaced"_

Lovino smiled right into Antonio's eyes when he said the last of the verse:

_"And are you thinking of ME when you fuck her?" _

The Spaniard's expression was priceless.

_"'Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able _

_To make it enough for you to be open wide_

_No_

_And every time you speak her name _

_Does she know how you told me you'd hold me _

_Until you die? Til you die? _

_Well, you're still alive!"_

The Italian paced back across the stage, swinging his hips as he let himself fall into the lyrics:

_"And I'm here to remind you _

_Of the mess you left when you went away_

_It's not fair to deny me _

_Of the cross I bear that you gave to me_

_You_

_You _

_You oughta know" _

Lovino paused in the instrumental break, humming along to Gilbert's riff as it climbed in pitch. The crowd was going wild, just as if they were really at a concert: students yelling and hollering, even some parents and staff fist-pumping the air around them when they thought no one was looking. The young Italian felt very proud of himself in that moment, continuing with the song:

_"'Cause the joke that you laid _

_On the bed that was me_

_And I'm not gonna fade _

_As soon as you close your eyes_

_And you know it_

_And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back_

_I hope you feel it_

_Well, can you feel it?" _

Lovino thought he was going crazy, all of his anger and hurt seeping out of him as he screamed into the mic at Antonio, the latter curled up in his seat, his emerald eyes begging the Italian to stop, to leave the song unfinished, to forget that he'd ever been caught cheating and to hold him like they liked to do when either of them wasn't feeling his best. Lovino simply shook his head in disgust that his ex-boyfriend thought he'd be won back so easily. The love of the young Italian was a hard thing to be won, and Toni knew he'd fucked his chance up majorly.

_"And I'm here to remind you _

_Of the mess you left when you went away_

_It's not fair to deny me _

_Of the cross I bear that you gave to me_

_You_

_You _

_You oughta know why I'm here_

_To remind you _

_Of the mess you left when you went away_

_It's not fair to deny me _

_Of the cross I bear that you gave to me_

_You_

_You _

_You oughta know!" _

Lovino finished the song strong, glaring his hurt and disappointment at the Spaniard he'd fallen so hard for. "Now you know, bastard."

Those were his last words to the teen as he threw the mic gently to the ground and walked off stage, the sounds of applause ringing through the air as his band members cleared their equipment and all the acts were brought back out to be recognized and the top acts to be awarded.

The Spaniard wanted to disappear off the face of the planet. The guilt was eating at him from the inside and he knew no amount of ripe tomatoes or making out or sex with the girl next to him was ever going to help him forget that night: the night that he had his mistakes – the ones he'd tried to ignore – come back to bite him painfully hard, the night that a fucking _break up song _was used on him by the one he thought he'd be spending the rest of his life with, the night that _Lovino Romano Vargas _– Italian sex-on-legs that many people, girls and guys alike, wished for their own despite his personality – dumped his sorry ass.

The blond across the room watched as the acts were brought back out and recognized for their hard work and performances, before the top acts were awarded the prizes for being the best. In third place was one of the dance groups that had performed, in second was the illusionist, and in first was the Italian's group, the entire room erupting once again as they were congratulated and given ribbons that advertised "1st Place" in the Talent Show. He could just make out the faint forced smile on the singer's lips, the overwhelming forlornness that engulfed him no doubt at the thought of having lost someone he had held so close.

Turning on his heel, the blond made his way silently out of the room, intent on finding the Italian sometime at school in the next week to offer him the knowledge that there were better choices of boyfriend material out in the world and a shoulder to cry on; God knew he needed one that wasn't his worrying brother.

Lovino had gone numb after the performance, the knowledge that he was now free and single and absolutely unwanted sinking into his bones and causing his eyes to burn with unshed tears. As much as he hated the unfaithful bastard, he wasn't sure what he was going to do now that he didn't have him. It hurt to imagine. It hurt so much.

As soon as he got home, Lovino was going to undress, crawl into his bed in nothing but his fucking underwear, and fall asleep in the fetal position under the comforter for the duration of the weekend.

. . .

Back at school the following Monday, Lovino had been called into the principal's office to be chastised on the choice of song and his less-than-school-appropriate mannerisms at the Talent Show the Friday before. Having been in a similar situation himself, however, the principal had just pat his back in an understanding gesture and told him to "watch the language" the next time he was up on stage before congratulating him once again on the win.

Nodding in understanding and having no intention to change his speaking patterns, Lovino made his way out of the office with a heavy sigh. His weekend had gone exactly to plan, Feliciano and Gilbert being the only two brave enough to enter his room to give him food and drink at the appropriate times of day. He'd laid curled up the entire time, softly crying to himself at the agonizing heartache at losing the one he'd finally given his trust to just to have it thrown back in his face and stomped on. Gilbert had entered only once to ask him if he'd wanted any of the things the bastard had had the audacity to return before excusing himself out of their lives completely knowing he didn't have the slightest chance of getting back in.

Lovino had calmly and kindly told Gilbert that the items could go fuck themselves in the nearest garbage bin before breaking down into incomprehensible sobs that wracked through his whole body and tore at his mind, heart and soul.

Sniffling lightly to himself, Lovino shuffled his way down the hall to his next class, glaring at the ground as he tried to refrain from yelling in more frustration and laying into the nearest vending machine when he ran into a body, taking both the other and himself to the ground.

He groaned, holding his head as he sat up. "_Chigi!_ You need to fucking watch where the fuck you're going, fucking bastard!" he grumbled, lifting his head and coming face-to-face with brilliant green eyes, shining like emeralds in the fluorescent lights of the corridor. These emeralds, unlike the ones he'd spent hours staring into, were brighter and lighter, closer to a forest meadow instead of a dark jade. They also happened to be set into a pale face, framed by chopped wheat-gold locks and bordered on the top by thick, caterpillar-like eyebrows that were scrunched in pain as well.

It finally registered with Lovino that he'd run into the school's Student Council President, a Briton by the name of Arthur Kirkland with the longest, largest stick-up-his-ass anyone could ever know. His personality was similar to Lovino's: he was one to use harsh words and a sarcastic manner when dealing with those he believed not worthy of his time, though unlike Lovi he was a straight-A student that loved to follow the rules. Lovi never had anything against the Brit, but he'd never had anything to do with him, either.

The Brit whimpered slightly as he sat up as well, rubbing the back of his head where it had connected with the tiles of the floor. "Sorry, mate," he said, his accent rolling thickly off his tongue and causing a slight shiver to run down the Italian's spine, though he couldn't think of why it did that. "Came around that bend a bit too quickly, hm?"

Pushing himself to his feet, Arthur reached a hand down to the small Italian still sprawled on the ground looking slightly perplexed about something. "I do apologize," he said again, a sheepish tone lacing his words. "Though I wanted to speak with you, I hadn't meant to run you over."

Lovi stared at the hand before looking back into his eyes, feeling a light blush stain his cheeks as he grabbed the offered hand and hauled himself up. "_G-Grazie,_" he stuttered nervously, looking away to hide his embarrassment. "What did you need with me, idiot?" he prompted quickly, attempting to mask his flustered state the same way he always did – with harsh words.

He was mildly surprised when the Brit simply chuckled softly. "I came to congratulate you on your win last Friday," he replied, giving the Italian a warm smile. "Your performance was moving and I have to say that was a magnificent cover of that song. I wouldn't have thought you had any punk in you." He laughed again and Lovi found it oddly comforting.

However, he settled for blushing deeper and pouting, crossing his arms defensively across his chest and looking away. "Y-Yeah, w-well…" he mumbled, "I suppose I'm just one big fucking surprise." He snorted, glaring at the wall. "It was fucking written all over the fucking bastard's face."

Arthur melted at the sadness in the unique jade-laced warm honey orbs, frowning slightly at the glistening tears that pooled in the corners and gently fell down the tanned cheeks. Without much thought, he reached out and tenderly brushed them away with his thumb, cupping Lovino's face in his palm as his other arm wrapped around the Italian's waist and pulled him into his chest, hugging him securely to his person.

Lovino tensed at the gesture, freezing in the Brit's arms as he was hugged unexpectedly. The warmth he felt radiating from Arthur was surprisingly nice as well, melting the coldness in his chest and filling the emptiness that leaving Antonio had left behind. He felt himself slowly relax into the other's hold, feeling the tears falling more rapidly and in greater quantity.

"Shh," Arthur cooed in his ear, rubbing soothing circles into his back as the Italian began to whimper into his chest. "Shh, it's alright, love. It's alright. Let it all out." Glancing around, Arthur gently led Lovino to the Student Council room, shutting and locking the door before sitting down on one of the couches and situating the small Italian on his lap, tucking the soft red-tinted auburn locks with the one wild curl under his chin as he nuzzled his face into them, inhaling the lovely aroma of spices and herbs that were signatures to the Italians' foodstuffs.

Lovino felt himself completely collapse mentally and emotionally; he let the tears flow and the broken sobbing fill the room as he cried his hurt and anger and resentment and loneliness and insecurity into Arthur's blazer, staining it with his tears and snot and possibly a bit of drool. He felt so tired, absolutely exhausted, and he let Arthur hold him, caressing his head and rubbing his back and cooing gentle reassurances in his ear. Lovino felt so pathetic, so degraded, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away, to shove out of the security of the Brit's hold and shout profanities at him for seeing him so weak, so broken.

Neither knew how long they sat in the room, one crying into the other's shoulder as deep-rooted worries were freed and released, a feeling of calm serenity replacing them and warming a heart encased in ice. When he felt he'd cried his entire tear supply into the blazer, Lovino sat quietly, sniffling on occasion, with his head still buried in the crook of the Brit's pale neck. He breathed deeply the aroma of fresh grass, Jasmine tea and burnt scones. He smiled to himself, inhaling the smell of Arthur deeply, letting it calm his fried nerves and settle his pounding heart.

Arthur had taken to running his fingers softly through the silky locks, ingraining the feel of the strands cascading around his hand in his mind as he rocked slowly back and forth, calming the Italian as if he were no more than a young child, though he was anything but. Hearing the sobs quiet and turn to simple sniffles, the Brit paused in his movements and shifted the teen in his lap, leaning back to where he could gaze into those unique irises. "Feeling better, love?" he asked softly, giving a tender smile.

Lovino looked at him for a moment before nodding timidly, turning his burning face away from the piercing gaze of the emerald orbs of the Brit. "Y-Yeah…" he admitted. "A little, I s'pose."

Arthur smiled a bit wider and pulled him close, nuzzling his face back into the soft strands of hair again. "You needed that, love," he said, pressing a tender kiss to the Italian's head. "You've been bottling up your emotions for too long; it's not healthy."

True to his personality now that he'd gotten it all out of his system, Lovino huffed, pouting and crossing his arms, looking away yet again. "Whatever. Only weak people show their emotions all the time."

Arthur chuckled, glad to hear the Italian's normal attitude returning to him. "On the contrary," he argued, "it takes an extremely strong person to trust others enough to allow them to see his true feelings. Don't you think, love?" He smiled brightly.

Lovino glanced at him, grudgingly agreeing to the point by way of huffing once again. "Whatever."

Arthur shook his head exasperatedly, running his hand through Lovino's hair again, letting a peaceful silence befall them until his hand brushed the wayward curl, eliciting a small gasp from the Italian in his lap.

"_Chigi!_" Lovino panted, his face now as red as the tomatoes he used in most of his cooking. "B-Be careful, you bastard!" he exclaimed breathlessly.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, letting a mischievous smirk cross his features. "Oh? Sensitive there, are we, love?" He let his hand hover over the curl before gripping it between his thumb and index finger and giving a quick tug before curling it around his finger and pulling languidly.

Lovino let out a high whine that melted into a low moan, feeling white-hot pleasure course through his veins from the curl to his nether regions as it was manipulated, his face covered in the most enticing blush, his skin glistening with a light sheen of perspiration, eyes slipping closed as his head fell back and he subconsciously ground his lower half into the Brit. He panted heavily, his breaths coming out in labored puffs as he looked unfocused up into Arthur's sparkling emerald irises, his own orbs glazed and half-lidded.

Arthur could say with confidence that he'd never seen something as adorable and enticing as a sexually hot and bothered Lovino Vargas sitting in his lap panting wantonly as he moaned at the stimulation to his erogenous curl. Arthur himself could feel the heat rushing through his own body, hardening areas that were becoming increasingly uncomfortable while he watched the display in front of him as he teased the curl, threading it in and out of his fingers, alternating between quick sharp tugs and gentle massaging pulls. The sounds emitting from the small Italian were music to his ears, a symphony of high whimpers, tenor mewls and gasps, and low moans and groans.

"S-Stop teasing me…" Lovino managed to breathe at one point through the onslaught of pleasure wracking through his slender body, his face burning not only with the pleasure but with the embarrassment of looking like such a desperate and needy whore. "I-It's not fair…" He leaned his body into the Brit's, pressing his throbbing erection into the one he could feel through Arthur's trousers, smirking airily when the Brit groaned at the slight friction.

Arthur gasped as Lovi began rocking their hips together – revenge for the teasing of his curl – but he stopped it with an arm around the Italian's waist, holding him still as he finally released the curl to bring the hand under Lovi's chin, tilting his flushed face to his, gazing deeply into pleasure-glazed jade-laced honey. He smiled contentedly, tilting his head slightly to the side. "No one said life is fair, love," he murmured before leaning forward, capturing the soft plump lips of the panting Italian with his in a deep, tenderly sweet passion-filled kiss.

Lovino didn't hesitate to return the kiss, pressing firmly back into Arthur's mouth, moving his in synchronization with the Brit's, feeling their lips mesh and meld into one another as they remained connected so intimately. They began to break for air simply to reconnect not a second later, heads tilting this way and that to find the best angle that they both liked.

Eventually, Lovino felt Arthur's tongue slide along his swollen bottom lip and he happily accepted it, letting his own appendage tangle in a timeless dance for control with the Brit's, inevitably relinquishing its fight to allow the other to explore and map his hot cavern, much like a pirate may search for treasure. When he was satisfied, Arthur coaxed Lovino's tongue into his own mouth to repeat the adventure himself, and the Italian took full advantage of the opportunity, letting his tongue drag lethargically over every tooth, across the roof of his mouth, over the insides of his cheeks as he memorized the feel of the other's mouth like he'd never bothered with Antonio.

Surprisingly, the thought that he'd never bothered exploring the Spaniard he'd thought he'd loved as excruciatingly as he was the Brit didn't faze him one bit. It didn't even take from the experience of kissing Arthur ; one may have worried that realizing he was kissing another boy so soon after his break up would ruin the moment, jerk him back to reality or some shit and throw him back into the pool of icy hurt that he'd been drowning in until the warmth of the Brit enveloped him – but it didn't. Lovino had never felt more complete, more secure, more _alive _than he did while kissing Arthur Kirkland.

When he broke to gasp for air, Lovino found himself laid out beneath the Brit, pressed tenderly into the leather cushions of the sofa as Arthur hovered over him, gazing down at him lovingly with an endless adoration that caused him to feel warm for reasons other than their proximity and shenanigans. He snorted to himself. Shenanigans.

Did he really just fucking think the word _shenanigans?_

"What's so funny, love?"

Arthur's voice sounded as breathless as he felt, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face as he looked up at the disheveled Briton above him. "I think I seriously just labeled what we're doing _shenanigans,_" he replied, sneering at himself. "I mean, seriously. What the fuck? Who even _says _that?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, smirk present, and let a soft scoff. "_You, _apparently, love," he pointed out teasingly, leaning down to bump his nose against the Italian's. _His _Italian. "And there's nothing wrong with shenanigans; in fact, I believe I'm quite enjoying them." He winked, snickering at the deep rose hue permanently tattooed on the tanned face.

Lovino deadpanned before rolling his eyes. "I can tell, bastard."

Arthur laughed, leaning up and removing himself from over Lovi, pulling his Italian up and into his lap as he collapsed against the cushions. Lovi situated himself between Arthur's legs, interlacing their lower limbs as he snuggled into his Brit's chest, tucking his head into the crook of his neck and lightly caressing the satiny skin with his kiss-swollen lips, placing feathery kisses along the expanse of ivory jawline.

Arthur's arms held his Italian tightly to him, fingers interlocking, alabaster and bronze. He smiled at the attention being lavished on his slightly ticklish skin, closing his eyes and letting his head fall to the side to rest on top of red-tinted auburn locks. After a moment, the kisses stopped and he could feel Lovi settle into him, no doubt preparing to skip class and nap in the Student Council office with the Brit.

"Hey, Lovino?" The name rolled off his tongue pleasantly and he found he wanted to say it over and over and over again.

Said teen was a bit stunned at his name falling from those lips, but he loved it regardless. "_Sì, Arturo_?"

Arthur shivered at his name rolling pleasantly in Italian. "Oh, I'm going to love you saying that," he muttered, smiling widely in his half-asleep state, "but that's not what I was going to say."

Lovi chuckled, the sound thick with fatigue. "Well, then, what _were _you going to say, idiot?"

Arthur chuckled as well. "I was going to ask if you wanted to officially be my boyfriend."

Lovi breathed a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it seep out his nose. "You do know I just got out of a relationship, right?" He paused before adding on, "One that had me in fucking sissy tears and goddamn heart-wrenching sobs in your lap, snotting all over your fucking blazer."

"I know."

Lovi pushed himself up to stare narrow-eyed into Arthur's green orbs, searching for something he could not name. "And you're still asking, even knowing all that?"

Arthur just smiled at him. "I understand that he was a big part of your life," he said, bringing a hand up to caress his Italian's cheek. "But you're so very young, love. All you've known up until now is him; how can you say for certain that he was even the one to begin with?

"He's not the end of the world, you know," he chuckled. "I also realize you've only had –what? A week and half? Two weeks? – to get over him and move on." He sighed, tightening his hold on Lovino's hand that was still entwined with his. "I'm not saying you're never going to miss him," he murmured softly, "but I do know that you're not going to let his memory prevent you from moving on in life.

"You're Lovino Vargas," he stated simply, looking with bright and optimistic eyes at his young Italian. "The world is yours to take. Why not go ahead and grab what you want while its offering itself so readily?"

Lovino stared silently into Arthur's emerald eyes, ones so similar yet so different from the ones he had familiarized himself with. "I do miss him," he admitted quietly, looking away from those intense irises. "For so long, it'd been just me and him, the two of us against the world." He let out a bitter laugh, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "And then he chose the world over me."

Arthur watched Lovino for a moment before tilting his Italian's chin back up to look into his bright eyes shining from so much tear-shed. "Then you deserve someone who sees you as his world."

Lovino held his gaze for several seconds before dropping his chin, falling forward to bury his face back into the crook of Arthur's neck, letting his Brit's arms wrap around him once again. "Do you really see me as your world?" he asked softly, closing his eyes again as he felt the fatigue creep back up on him.

Arthur hummed, pulling him closer, nuzzling into his hair before resting his cheek against the top of his Italian's head, letting his own eyes fall closed as a peacefulness settled over them, lulling him to sleep. He managed to let his answer interrupt the silence briefly before they both settled comfortably into one another and lost themselves to unconsciousness.

"You ought to know."

_END_


End file.
